Page 38 of When You're Forgotten

Edwin sank onto a stool by the fireplace, picking up a jug from the floor.“Because I’m not working on the estate, strictly speaking.Officially got let go a while back.The Penroses don’t pay me because they don’t have the cash it appears.I just… remain in the area.”He offered Finn the jug with a wry tilt of his head.“Moonshine, in case you’re thirsty.Or is that too folksy for a big city detective?”

Finn considered it, then took the jug with a polite nod.He raised it but only sipped a tiny measure— the pungent flavor burned his throat with surprising intensity.“That’s strong.”

Edwin chuckled softly.“Right, city boy.”

“Actually, I’m from a small town in Florida,” Finn said.“Spent a lot of time in the swamps there as a kid.My uncle used to make something that tasted just like this.”

“The farther you go, the closer to home you are,” Edwin said, cryptically.

Finn set the jug aside, leaning forward.“So you were dismissed.Because the estate was failing financially?That’s what you said?”

Edwin’s expression turned bitter.“Yes.The Hall couldn’t afford me, so said James.But Catherine actually had a soft spot for me—she urged him to keep me on.Sometime later, James forced me out anyway.Reckoned I was stirring up superstitions or something about Wilkie’s death.”

Finn remembered how Catherine’s kindness was noted by others.“So you ended up in these woods.A man’s got to live somewhere, I suppose?”

“Exactly,” Edwin said.He rested an elbow on his knee, eyes shadowed by the flickering lantern.“My family’s from this area for generations.I’m more at home among these trees than the brick walls of that Hall.And I had reasons to stay close— Catherine didn’t want me to vanish.She’d let me rummage for supplies in one of the old sheds.Now… well, she’s gone.”His voice turned somber.

Something like regret flickered across Finn’s mind.“I’m sorry for your loss.We don’t have the autopsy yet, but it seems likely Catherine was murdered.”

Edwin took a breath, voice raw.“I know.Heard about it.She was the last decent Penrose in that line.”

Finn studied his weathered face.The man’s bitterness indicated a deeper story.“Speaking of Wilkie—Hobbs told us you found the body in the cellar, inside a wardrobe.That’s quite a horrifying image.”

A shadow crossed Edwin’s features.“Yes, it was.Wilkie’s face was wide-eyed, stiff, like he’d seen the devil himself.I knew it was a heart attack caused by fear, but the official records just wrote it off as a medical oddity.James never forgave me for telling Wilkie tales of the old estate’s curse.He thought it caused problems for the man.”

Finn’s ears perked.“The curse?”

Sighing, Edwin rose and opened a small chest by the fireplace, rummaging until he found a rolled piece of parchment."I'm seriously into folklore.I recorded bits of the estate's history, scribbles about the Penrose ancestors.There's a story that the ghosts of their lineage kill any descendant who brings disrepute on the family name—by terrifying them to death.Wilkie vaguely knew about it, so I filled in the details.He seemed different after that.The man had an imaginative mind, and it spooked him something fierce.I also think it might have been more than superstition that got him.Some places have things in them that you wouldn't want to run into."

Finn felt a chill prickle the back of his neck.“So you think Wilkie’s death was caused by some supernatural fright?”

Edwin half-shrugged.“I believe in many unexplained phenomena.And I do know that after Wilkie died, James was convinced that the curse, and the stories of the curse, had something to do with it.He insisted I peddled ghost stories to Wilkie, twisted his mind.That’s part of why James wanted me gone from the estate—he blamed me for fueling Wilkie’s fears.It just took him years to finally do it because Catherine always pushed back.But once it was a question of money, I was a goner.”

Finn tapped a finger on the chair’s worn armrest.“Do you believe it’s a real curse?That these ghosts are killing the Penroses who shame the family?”

A strange light filled Edwin’s eyes, a blend of conviction and sorrow.“I’ve roamed these woods at night.Heard knocks, seen strange lights that move among the trees.Could be illusions.Could be something else.All I know is Wilkie’s face was locked in a terror I’ve never seen before—like something unnatural got him.And James was sure next, or so he feared.Now look: James is gone, Catherine’s gone.The curse seems alive, doesn’t it?”

Finn inhaled slowly, forcing rational thought.“It could also be a human culprit exploiting these superstitions.James was terrified enough to build a panic room.And indeed, he died alone, apparently frightened.Now Catherine’s also dead.If you didn’t do it, do you suspect someone else is leaning into the ghost story to kill them discreetly?”

Edwin snorted, a humorless sound."Haven't you considered that the Penrose themselves brought misfortune by their actions?James especially.He ran the family fortune into the ground, took up with… questionable company—escorts, rumor said—disreputing the name.If that's true, maybe the old ghosts had the last laugh."

Finn’s eyes narrowed.“Escorts?That’s new info to me.You’re certain?”

Edwin scratched his gray stubble.“Heard rumors from staff.James was partial to unsavory amusements.Enough to stain the family name, especially if word got out.”A wry shrug.“Maybe that was enough to seal his fate, if you believe in curses.”

A short hush followed as the man’s words sank in.Finn had suspected James had financial secrets, but a hidden vice with escorts might tie into blackmail or other shady dealings.Perhaps that was one motive for murder.It also made sense as to why James would have wanted the house to himself the night he died.

“That’s a serious allegation,” he said quietly.“We’ll see if the estate’s financial records show anything like that.Another question: how did you remain here after James fired you?He never forced you off the property grounds?”

Edwin's mouth twisted in a half-grin."James dreaded these woods.He never ventured past the edges.So I lived out here.Catherine knew, kept my presence secret.She'd occasionally drop supplies near the walled garden.It was no picnic, but better than driftin' off to some city.No one ever bothered me from the Hall."

Finn nodded, absorbing the man’s honesty.“And where were you the night James died?If we’re thorough, we must ask.”

A flicker of defensiveness crossed Edwin’s face.“Here, in my cabin, alone.No alibi, if that’s what you’re after.I rarely leave these woods.”

Finn pursed his lips.“Did you want James harmed in any way?A personal grudge?”

Edwin lifted a brow.“I hold no illusions about him.He scorned me for the ghost stories, blamed me for Wilkie’s breakdown.But I’m a peaceful man.I let nature and fate take their course.If something haunted that Hall, it was bound to end him eventually.”

---